Death and Glitter
by Hadican
Summary: Timothy Drake Wayne is dead. At least that is his estimation if the grim reaper like figure holding up a scythe is any indication. Coffee and lack of sleep do not make a good combination apparently...His poor heart couldn't have agreed more. One Shot.


**Author's Note:** Wooo, here's another Batman fic featuring Tim. Still trying to get characterization down. Hm...just gotta keep chugging along!

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Death and Glitter

Lids fluttered open and Timothy Drake Wayne was perturbed to find that he was no longer in front of the Bat computer. No, in fact he didn't appear to be in the cave at all, much to his confusion.

Looking left and right he found nothing but inky blackness no matter where he looked. Training finally stumbled forward and kicked him in the seat of his pants. Taking a more defensive position he allowed all of his training to take over. Okay, first thing first-

"Ah, so good to see you!" a voice crowed, scaring both him and all of his training to the ceiling. Or rather it would have had there been a ceiling in the first place. He hadn't felt the person's presence whatsoever and that did not bode well for the third Robin.

Turning around rapidly he came face to face with what he could only describe as a very bad impression of the Grim Reaper from folk lore. If the Grim Reaper was into sparkly mascara and had a flare for glittery red capes, that is. At least the scythe fit the herald of death motif. Tim hoped he was dreaming.

"Note to self," he muttered, more to himself than to the figure before him. "Get some actual sleep and lay off the coffee..."

"Hey!" the coffee and lack of sleep induced illusion looked affronted. "I can assure you that I am, in fact, 100% genuine!"

"Right," he said, and his eyes widened when his wrist was grabbed by the figure. The action had already left some of the glitter on his sleeve. That was never going to come out, was it? The red glitter twinkled back at him in response.

"Come along, I will show you that we are in reality!" his "heart" jumped in his chest as they flew forward and the darkness shifted into something with a bit more color. That particular color was the cool blue from the Bat-computer's screen. Laying slumped over the console was a figure and he realized instantly that-that person was him. His skin looked ashen and his facial features were gaunt. The teenager flinched back at the sight. Did he really look that bad? The third Robin wasn't one to generally look at his appearance in mirrors, and to see himself like this was startling. Still, he was yet to be convinced that this was reality.

"Okay," he began slowly, and his companion could tell he had yet to be convinced. With a withering sigh he took his wrist again, and Tim was slightly disgruntled to find even more glitter had appeared on his sleeve. Once more the specks twinkled at him mockingly.

"I could try and convince you all night, but we're on a schedule," the Reaper informed. Tim went along with this. What else could he do? Scream and cry for a second chance? That just felt like it would exhaust him further, and serve no purpose other than to stall the inevitable. Hopefully he was right and all of this was just a dream due to exhaustion.

The Reaper lead him through what appeared to be snippets from his life. A lonely Christmas wondering if his parents would make it back to ring in the New Year. A time when he'd been in a school play and saw his parents in the crowd for the first and last time. Taking a snapshot of Batman and Robin long before he had ever even thought of taking up the mantle. The conversation between him and Nightwing when he tried to convince the older man to become Robin again...and then everything just began to blur.

It felt like sleep was heavy on his conscious, the only thing that kept him from keeling over then and there was a tap on his shoulder.

"Stay with me," the Reaper said, his voice business-like. "Don't get lost in your memories, once they end you'll fall through this world. I can assure you that it won't be pleasant either."

Tim nodded sluggishly. From the inky darkness a platform materialized and the two landed on it with nothing more than a whisper. His wrist was released and the teenager watched as a door materialized in front of them.

"Ah, here we are," the Reaper remarked, sparing him a quick glance before shifting his gaze back to the double doors. They were incredibly ornate and reminded Tim of something that would have been considered gaudy even by today's standards. "Once you go through here there will be no going back. Please, take as much time as you need to decide on your best course of action."

Before Tim could ask what going through the door entailed the cloaked figure disappeared before his very eyes in a cloud of glittering specks. To be quite frank it was kind of ridiculous, but he couldn't dwell on that now.

Turning back to the door he tried to figure out just what would happen if he did go through that door. Sitting down he pondered this for who knew how long, time had no meaning here as far as he could tell. There was no way to track it and he began to wonder how long he had been sitting in front of this same door.

After awhile he stood up. Sitting around was doing nothing. Plus, there was no guarantee that there was anything bad on the other side of the door. Lifting his arm he reached out for the door, fingers scant inches away from grazing the handle, but before he could even touch the embellished handle a light shone, catching the corner of his eye.

Blinking a few times he turned around and squinted at the overly bright light. There was something...familiar about that light, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Suddenly a creaking noise sounded from behind him and he turned to see the door opening up of its own accord. Inky darkness was all that awaited inside, and then he watched in a mixture of curiosity and horror as the mysterious substance spilled forth.

Turning tail he headed towards the light, unsure if he would be able to even walk without the Reaper's guidance. Still, he had little choice. Jumping off the edge of the platform he hoped that something would catch him below.

Thankfully he did not have to fret for long. Something solid was indeed waiting for him and it was in the shape of what appeared to be a hospital bed. The object illuminated in radiant light.

He was almost there, just a little further. The teen's eyes widened when he felt some unseen force gripping his arms and hauling him up and away from the light. Gritting his teeth he pulled against it as best as he could, but to no avail.

He watched in desperation as the light slowly began to fade away. With one last desperate effort he bit down on some of the inky darkness. There was a possibility that this would do nothing, but some feral part of him decided that this was his best, if only course of action.

It worked. Somehow, someway, even if this made absolutely no sense, the tendrils reacted. They flinched and their grip loosened on him.

This was his chance!

Pulling with all of his strength he managed to tear away his left arm. Having recovered from the sudden bite, the tendrils increased their hold, and a burning sensation seared into his flesh.

Gritting his teeth in a subdued scream the teen felt all of his strength being sapped away by the second. With one last, desperate attempt, Tim managed to tear through the rest of the darkness.

Weightlessness settled over him, and through half lidded eyes he watched as the light brightened from beneath him. He was going to make it-

Something slammed into his side, knocking the "air" out of him, and sent him careening past the bed and towards the sea of memories. What had...?!

The muted colors beneath drew closer and he watched as more memories became clear. Of course they had to be the painful ones too. The idea of being lost in a sea of disappointment and pain before being cast into oblivion sent him reeling. He wouldn't...he couldn't do all of that again, he refused!

Furrowing his brow he gritted his teeth. If this was the way things were going to go, he was at least going to make sure he got lost in the good memories before his end.

Before he hit the sea beneath something caught him. Eyes opening he managed to see the mockery of a Reaper looking down at him. There was a grin on his face, and though Tim didn't usually stray towards violence at the drop of a hat, the thought of wiping that look off the creature's face was not unappealing.

There was a breathless laugh before he heard the words, "You pass!"

What the-

Before any expletives could leave his mouth he was suddenly flung upwards. The underside of the bed came into view and despite himself he flinched, but instead of smashing into the object he was enveloped in a radiant white light.

Tim's eyes flew wide open and the first thing he felt was a searing pain in the center of his chest. The sound of something clattering was the first thing he heard as he gasped and tried to get up only for hands to push him back down.

"Hey! Timmy, you're okay! Shhh...you're okay," a voice soothed and his senses slowly returned to him. His muddled brain supplied him a name to the familiar voice.

 _'Dick...'_

Relief flooded him and he immediately relaxed. Now that he wasn't in panic mode he could hear a repetitive beep that filled the silence. Of course, a heart monitor. So he really had...

"Tim...?" his eyebrow twitched before he managed to open his eyes to look at his older brother. There was worry etched all over the older man's face and there were even tears threatening to fall. Guilt filled him but he managed to lift one of his hands and give Dick the "O.K" sign. That seemed to reduce his fears and he offered the younger a watery smile.

Dick moved to right the chair and it was at this time Tim realized there was another person in the room with them. Sitting in the corner, looking far too big for the wooden chair he was in, was Bruce. Albeit the man looked like absolute hell. His hair was tousled, his face had a five o'clock shadow, and there were bandages wrapped around one of his hands. If he focused enough he could even see where a bit of blood had bled through.

Lifting his hand up weakly he managed to point at their mentor. Dick didn't even have to look over his shoulder to know. There was that worry again and Tim felt bad for even bringing the situation up.

"It's been a rough week, Timmy," startled his body reflexively jerked and pain wracked throughout his whole being. The first word he managed to utter, which really wasn't a word at all, was a whimper of pain. How embarrassing.

Dick's hand immediately attached itself to Tim's and squeezed gently.

"Easy, Tim," the man murmured. "There are a lot of things you need to be filled in on, but not now. Rest."

"Tim...?" a sleepy rumble sounded from behind them and both turned their heads to see Bruce. His eyes were bleary for all of a second before they sharpened. The man straightened in his chair, causing it to creak. Bruce abandoned the chair almost immediately and walked towards Tim's bedside.

The tension could be cut with a knife, or a batarang given the sudden pressure in the room. Bruce was really giving off the Batman vibes before, all at once, he slumped in on himself.

"How...are you?" the man asked, and Tim blinked. Leave it to Bruce to go from being stone cold Batman to awkward parent Bruce in the matter of two seconds. At least his speech wasn't as stilted like when he and Jason tried to have a civilized conversation at family events.

He wasn't sure he would be able to speak, and so he used the hand that Dick wasn't holding to give a thumbs up sign this time around. Bruce seemed to relax then. Tim wasn't going to admit to being able to read Bruce as easily as his eldest brother could, hell, Dick could read all of them as if they were the easiest of children's books, but he could tell that simple gesture had meant a lot.

It was around this time that a nurse came in. She startled upon noticing him awake and immediately called for the rest of the staff. Before anyone could do much else Bruce and Dick where shooed away to wait outside while he got examined.

Altogether he was pretty exhausted and his eyes drooped as Bruce and Dick were allowed back in. His other brother smiled at him warmly, "Get some rest, Timmy, we can talk later."

Tim nodded, fully intent on doing just what was asked of him when something caught his eye as he shifted to find a more comfortable position. On his arm, innocently sitting there and twinkling faintly in the light was some glitter...

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 _End_


End file.
